Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [149]
The blows stopped, and the warpriests stamped their hobnailed boots down on his arms and legs to hold him in place.
When Tanalasta did not speak again, Battlelord Steelhand looked over and seemed to realize there remained one thing he could do for his princess. Leaving Boldovar to his subordinates, he kneeled at Tanalasta's side, then took the infant from between her legs and laid it on her breast.
"Thank you," Tanalasta said. She looked back to Boldovar and, to her surprise, found that the next words were not difficult to say at all. "King Boldovar, as an heir to the Obarskyr crown and a direct descendant of your sister's line, I forgive your betrayal and absolve you of all crime against Cormyr."
Boldovar's eyes flashed their old crimson. He opened his mouth as though to speak, then simply crumbled into black dust.
Steelhand looked back to Tanalasta. "You've done well, Princess."
Tanalasta tried to nod, but made it only as far as lowering her eyes before the last of her strength left.
Steelhand smiled, for as a High Priest of the War God Tempus, he had seen a thousand warriors die and knew a good death when he saw it. He placed a mailed hand under the infant's naked bottom and boosted it higher on the princess's chest and guided her nipple into its mouth.
"Well met, little one," he said. "And long live the prince."
42
Alusair had only two hundred men left, and half those were wounded. The rest of her company had already fallen to the teeming hordes in… wherever they were. She had no idea where that might be, except that it was dark and full of little green goblins. The company was down to one iron-tipped arrow per man, and they were holding those in reserve. After an all-night chase-except that nobody really had any idea what "all night" meant in this city of darkness-she had finally come to some high ground and decided to make a stand.
They had built a low stone breastwork and lit the perimeter with magic lights, but the little buggers just kept charging up the stony slope, wave after wave of them armed with little iron spears and little iron swords. Alusair's dragoneers were well-trained, proficient with their weapons, and in good condition, so they cut down most of the creatures at the breastwork. Still, even her men weren't perfect, and every three minutes or so one of the tiny bastards slipped through to drive a spear through the belly of one of her soldiers. Soon enough, she would lack the manpower to defend the barricade, then the hordes would come pouring in and finish them off.
Alusair had been in worse situations-much worse. "Ready the fall back!" she called.
The Steel Princess raised her sword to signal the retreat-then cowered in shock as the cavern erupted into a deafening roar of thunder. Blinding sheets of lightning crackled up the slope, clear-cutting whole swaths of goblins and turning the ground into a slick black mess of gore. The enemy charge simply vanished, and in the flashing light that remained, Alusair saw a circle of ramshackle stone walls, broken at odd intervals by the crooked windows and tilted doorways of the vast goblin city.
Rushing out of the tunnels were the next wave of goblins, brandishing their little iron swords and clambering up the slope over the entrails and blood of their predecessors. Alusair ignored the mad charge and continued to scrutinize the passages, looking for the source of the strange lightning storm. There were only a handful of magicians in Faerun capable of such a flurry of magic-and only one who had good reason to help her.
Instead of Vangerdahast, she found a dozen men in rusty chain mail rushing out of a tunnel far to her right. They were all soaking wet and carrying iron maces, screaming supplications to Chauntea even as they raised barriers of thorns and bubbling mud between themselves and the goblins.
Alusair sighed in disappointment but decided that if she could not have Vangerdahast, a dozen Chauntean priests would have to do. She waved her sword toward the small party and commanded, "Prepare to support with